


Solace

by pilindiel



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Marco Joins Military Police, Dirty Talk, Hand Jobs, M/M, POV Marco Bott, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Semi-Public Sex, and is that some, do i see a, older!jeanmarco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 21:15:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11216418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pilindiel/pseuds/pilindiel
Summary: “Work, work, work,” Jean tuts quietly, teeth sinking gently into the junction between Marco's neck and shoulder.  It makes him gasp, heat pooling comfortably in his stomach, and Jean's arms wind around Marco's broad chest as he sucks a new, tender bruise onto Marco's tanned skin.





	Solace

At sunrise this morning, Marco got a hold of this map and it's eating away at him that he can't decipher where the hell it's supposed to _**be**_.  The sunlight has long faded and a cool, summer breeze flows in from the open window, but Marco doesn't find any comfort in it.  His mind is too focused and his dark oak desk is overrun with topical maps, almanacs, pamphlets and notes.

His expression sours as candlelight flickers across his features.  What is this map supposed to be _**of**_?  It has no major cities, it has no major landmarks, no bodies of water.  Marco feels like he's been looking at this damn thing for days and his eyes are heavy, tired.  His Military Police jacket is draped over the back of the chair and the first couple buttons of his shirt are un-done, messily. He doesn't feel like he's high in command at all with how helpless he feels over a simple piece of paper, and certainly doesn't look like a commander right now.

Marco sighs, running a hand through his already disheveled hair.

The door creaks open but Marco doesn't bother looking up from his mess of papers – only one other person would be up this late.

“Still can't figure it out?” Jean says from behind him, letting himself into the room.  Marco shrugs unhelpfully and jots another note down in his faded journal, barely acknowledging Jean as he approaches. The stinging smell of cigarettes still lingers on Jean's Scouting Legion jacket as he leans over Marco's shoulder from behind and Marco can see just enough of his jawline to notice the flecks of stumbled hair on his chin.

They're both older than when they first met – shadows of war and sleepless nights stain their skin like bruises beneath their eyes – but the flutter in Marco's chest is still the same, still just as warm as it was back then when he and Jean were all gangling limbs and hopeful smiles.

Jean leans back, out of Marco's view, but his hands replace his presence, gently kneading the tension between Marco's shoulder blades.

With a sigh Marco closes his eyes and relishes in the slow circles Jean makes with his calloused thumbs, pressing into Marco's tense muscles with practiced ease.

“Maybe you should go to bed?” Jean suggests softly, taking a knee behind Marco's chair so his breath huffs against Marco's ear, “Work on it in the morning?”

Marco groans quietly when one of Jean's fingers finds a particularly sore spot and he feels himself melt further into the worn wooden chair.

“I'm still working,” Marco chides with a sigh, “I need to – ”

Jean's warm lips press to the back of Marco's neck and Marco's protest turns into a tired hum.  Jean's hands trail down Marco's long arms, massaging away the tightness in his biceps until Marco is boneless, relaxed.

“Work, work, work,” Jean tuts quietly, teeth sinking gently into the junction between Marco's neck and shoulder.  It makes him gasp, heat pooling comfortably in his stomach, and Jean's arms wind around Marco's broad chest as he sucks a new, tender bruise onto Marco's tanned skin.

Jean's hands continue wandering along Marco's body, leaving trails of pulsing heat in their wake, like fire licking through Marco's veins.  Jean moves down his chest, his stomach, his thighs, his –

Marco grabs Jean's wrist in a vice-like grip before he can continue, heart catching in his throat.  Jean stills his hand obediently, but his mouth moves languidly against the expanse of Marco's neck, making it hard for Marco's brain to catch up with him.  He certainly doesn't want Jean to stop, but they're still in their base, still right where anyone could walk in, the door is still _**wide open**_.

But Jean doesn't play fair, scraping his teeth along Marco's pulse in just the way Marco likes, and Marco can't deny the way his stomach flutters at the thrill of getting caught like they're teenagers again, rubbing each other through their clothes in a barn by the barracks.  Marco shudders.

“Do you want me to stop?” Jean breathes, thumb brushing the inside of Marco's thigh.

Marco sucks in a breath and loosens his grip.  No, no he definitely _**doesn't**_.

Jean presses a kiss to Marco's earlobe, teeth digging into the soft flesh, before he slides his hand beneath the waistband of Marco's trousers.

The sensation is immediate.  Jean's fingers curl around Marco's shaft so perfectly, already half-hard and aching, and Jean's lithe fingers tighten around him, pulling him to full mast in long, firm strokes. Marco's hips jolt in Jean's grip and he flounders for something to ground himself on, settling for digging his nails into the handles of the chair.  He throws his head back onto Jean's shoulder with a gasp and Jean continues his assault on Marco's neck, pressing his heated groan against Marco's throat.

Suddenly, Marco hears the shuffle of fabric and Jean's hand falters for a moment.  Marco's eyes flutter open, trying to catch what's wrong when he notices Jean's other hand has gone into his own trousers, and Marco is met with Jean's quiet whine at his neck before Jean's hand starts moving again, fingers slick with Marco's precome.

Marco takes every chance he can to watch Jean out of the corner of his eye: watch the flush of arousal rise up his cheeks, his pupils blown wide as he strokes himself, the flicker of the candlelight off his sharp features.

Marco groans, a deep, throaty sound, and thrusts up into Jean's hand recklessly.  “C-can't help yourself, huh?” he grunts, turning his head so he can look at the concentration etched on Jean's face better.  Jean knits his brow, mouth falling open as he tries to catch his breath.  

“Good,” Marco breathes as Jean's voice hitches on a whine, his eyes closing tightly, “I...I love...” Marco chokes as Jean's thumb brushes over the slit of his cock, his voice strained.  “Love watching you...”

Jean slams their lips together roughly and Marco covets how Jean gasps into his mouth, making it easy for their tongues to glide against each other, for Marco to taste the nicotine still lingering behind Jean's teeth.  Their kisses are wet and passionate and Jean's hand is tight around him, hurried and desperate and Marco's legs spread wider, heat surging higher, pulsing, mounting...

With a shouted curse Marco cums, spilling hot all over Jean's hand and his vision goes white for a moment.

He crashes back down to Earth quickly, though, drawn back into the room by Jean's stuttering breaths.

“Y'look so good, Jean,” Marco wheezes as he comes down from his high, watching Jean shudder as he thrusts into his own hand, “Love watching you fall apart like this – ”

Jean's hips spasm and he yelps, burying his sweating forehead into Marco's shoulder as he rocks himself through his orgasm and Marco turns his head to press a kiss to Jean's hair, whispering quiet platitudes until Jean's gasping evens out.

Jean settles after a few tense moments and they both take their time to just breathe, sharing each other's air.

“Marco?” Jean drawls, resting his chin on Marco's shoulder.  Marco's brain is sluggish, slow to respond.

“Hmm?”

Jean smiles crookedly and kisses Marco's cheek.  “Happy birthday.”

**Author's Note:**

> God remember when I was going to just try to make a general hand job fic and not actually add any of my goddamn kinks into it and yet here we are.
> 
> Also I totally see Jean still working with the survey corps/scouting legion at Marco's urging for this canon-divergence thing. I bet Marco urged him to do it, because they need strong leaders like Jean and he says something cheeky like how he and Jean can work together to make the whole world a better place.


End file.
